


On a Day Like Today

by Eve_Louise (Stregatrek)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Aliens made them say it, Everything goes wrong on DS9 all the time, mostly Bashir being Bashir, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 09:55:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7217842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stregatrek/pseuds/Eve_Louise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Deep Space Nine breaks down. Sometimes communications do too. Sometimes one counteracts the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On a Day Like Today

**Author's Note:**

> I am terrible at summaries and wrote this on my phone. That said, I hope you enjoy it!

The station controls were down, the last 23 hours had been spent treating varying injuries as life support and artificial gravity flickered on and off sporadically, and just when Julian was sitting down for the first time to a meal and some raktajino, Garak joined him.  
"Doctor, there's something I need to tell you."  
Bashir barely stopped a sigh, the look on Garak's face intent and worried. On a day like today, there was no way it could be good news, and yet Bashir couldn't bring himself to ask that the conversation be delayed, not when Garak looked like that.  
"Alright," he motioned at the seat across from him and steepled his fingers over the meal he would dearly love to eat. "What is it, Garak?"  
The Cardassian sat and continued to look uncomfortable. "It's... Well, it's rather personal, and I do hope you'll forgive me, but it seems that..." Bashir noticed that his friend was displaying every Cardassian sign of discomfort on the books, as though his implant were failing all over again.  
"Garak?" The doctor prompted, meaning to ask if he was alright.  
"I'm in love with you," Garak blurted uncharacteristically, and before Bashir could do more than blink Garak had passed out, forehead hitting the table with a disheartening slap.  
"Bashir to sickbay, two to transport immediately," the doctor said, reaching for Garak's wrist.  
Ziyal was already in the infirmary when they materialized, her Bajoran heritage protecting her a little, but not much. "Hello, doctor," she smiled, struggling into a sitting position. "Is that Garak? Is he alright? Does he know about the toxin? My father said the station was armed with it, I wonder what triggered it? I think the point was so that if an enemy faction ever boarded we'd know what their aim was. Isn't that just like Cardassians, not even trusting our own species?"  
"Ziyal, slow down," Bashir instructed as he ran a tricorder over Garak and prepared a hypospray. "What is it?"  
"Do you know, Doctor, I really thought my father was going to shoot me?" She went crosseyed and slumped back on the biobed, much to Bashir's consternation. Checking that Garak's vitals had leveled out, he hurried over to Ziyal. "Jabara," he called, and the nurse emerged from the other room, where she'd been treating some minor fractures from the last time artificial gravity had shut down.  
"Yes, doctor?"  
"These two have been exposed to some kind of toxin, I need you to start trying to determine what it is." She nodded and Bashir tapped his commbadge. "Bashir to Sisko,"  
"Yes, doctor?" The terse reply snapped over communications.  
"There's some kind of toxin on the station, sir, it definitely affects Cardassians and may have effects on other species as well, I don't know where it's coming from but Ziyal said it was part of the station's defense systems before she fainted."  
Bashir heard Sisko say, "Chief, is that related to the failure in the air duct five?" There was a pause, in which Bashir assumed O'Brien was answering. "We're checking it out, Doctor, let me know if you have any further information for us,"  
"Yes sir, will do."  
"Doctor, I've isolated the compound," nurse Jabara said as soon as he cut the link, offering him a medical PADD with a molecule displayed on the screen. "I've never seen it before, but it has several bonds available and seems as though it will break down eventually; it's already unstable in Ziyal's bloodstream."  
"Excellent," he examined the molecule and accompanying readout, tapped in instructions for neutralization, and handed it back. "See that they both receive this, I'm going to see if I can ascertain whether it might affect any of the others onboard,"  
"Yes, doctor," Jabara turned to their patients and began dialing hyposprays, a slightly different combination for Ziyal than for Garak. Bashir sat down at a terminal and called up the molecule, running simulations to pair it with the species of everyone onboard. "Bashir to Dax,"  
"Yes, Doctor?"  
"I think you're going to be impacted by a toxin, possibly airborne, if you haven't been already. Are you experiencing any symptoms?"  
"Actually, yes, I've hardly been able to stop talking for the past few hours, it's driving Worf crazy and I'm just happy I'm not on the bridge, can you imagine what the Captain would say?”  
“Jadzia,”  
“-Or Kira, she'd be so annoyed, especially since I seem to be saying anything I think, including at lunch that ensign Tyi'err's hair design is way too big for his head, you've seen it, right? Not a good choice for him, he'd do much better with a bun than a beehive-"  
"Jadzia,"  
"Yes? You see, I'm doing it again, aren't I? It's so annoying, I can't-"  
"Jadzia, come down to sickbay,"  
"Alright, if you think it'll help, but-"  
He cut the link, knowing she'd forgive him. With a sigh, he returned to the index on the screen. No one else he knew personally... "Bashir to Sisko,"  
"Sisko here,"  
"We've isolated the chemical and compiled a list of the crew members it's likely to effect. I'll send it to you; please order them to report to sickbay,"  
"Thank you doctor,"  
"No problem. Good luck with the other issues. Bashir out." He sighed and leaned back in his chair. _I love you. _"Nurse, how long until they wake up?"__  
Jabara ran a tricorder over each Cardassian in turn. "Hard to tell, Doctor, probably a few hours."  
"Alright. I'm going to get some food, would you like anything?" He hauled himself to his feet and toward the replicator in the back.  
"No thank you Doctor, I just started my shift. Would you like to rest?"  
Bashir laughed, rubbing his eyes. "Yes, but I don't think I'm going to have the chance to for a while. I'd hate to leave you alone,"  
"Really doctor, I can administer hypo sprays to those affected. Why don't you take a break, and I'll let you know if anything else happens. Just rest on one of the biobeds in the back." She smiled at him, and he smiled gratefully back, heading toward the replicator and ordering himself a sandwich before sitting down on a biobed with a sigh.  
Finally, the catalyst for the most recent rush caught up with him, and he paused mid- sandwich to look around the room as though it would answer the question of why on earth Garak had said he loved him.  
When he heard Jadzia's bright voice coming nonstop from the other room, he snapped himself out of his contemplation of the possibilities, finishing his sandwich and lying back on the biobed. Maybe after a nap he'd feel like he was more up to the contemplation of his feelings and the why of Garak's toying with them. If it was toying. Or if maybe he'd meant it? For some reason? Oh... He forced his eyes shut and rolled onto his side, as if he could block out his own mind. He knew from experience that this wouldn't work, but apparently his tiredness won out this time, and within a few minutes was Bashir was dead asleep.  
When he opened his eyes, it was to Chief O'Brien bending over him, shaking him awake. "Julian,"  
"Ah! What!" He jerked, managing to save himself from hitting the floor by dint of much humiliating flailing. "Yes, Chief, what is it?" He rubbed his eyes, pushing himself into a sitting position.  
"Well, the toxin is out of the air, everyone should be behaving normally," Obrien reported. "I just thought you should know, especially because we have everything sorted but we need to run one final systems check and if anything else is going to go wrong on this godforsaken station, it'll be then. So, er- I thought you might want to be awake just in case anyone needed treatment?"  
"Got it," he yawned. "Thank you, Chief," he smiled.  
"No problem, Julian," the Chief smiled and turned to go, but Bashir called him back.  
"Miles, um, when you came in, did you... See Garak?"  
Cocking his head, he replied, "Er, no, should I have?"  
"Uh, no, he must be... Feeling better. Was Ziyal there?"  
"Not her either," Miles answered.  
"Well, never mind," Bashir slid off the biobed. "Thanks anyway. See you tomorrow for some time on the holodeck? If you're feeling up to it, I know you've had a long few days,"  
"Sure, if I'm awake," O'Brien smiled sardonically.  
"See you later," Julian called as his friend left sickbay.  
Nurse Jabara approached him. "Everything went smoothly after you went to the back, doctor, and we only had three new patients after the toxin, which was easily addressed."  
"Thank you, nurse." He smiled, albeit tiredly. "Why don't you let me clean up for the night, and if the Chief's adjustments go badly I'll call you,"  
"Are you sure, Doctor?"  
"Yes, go get yourself some dinner,"  
"Thank you!" She grinned and headed out. "Please do call me if you need me!"  
"Of course," he began to straighten up the sickbay, which wasn't as big a mess as it might have been if anyone but Jabara had been in charge all day, but there was enough to do that it kept his hands occupied while his mind turned his "conversation" with Garak over and over. He kept coming back to one question- what if Garak had meant it. The idea made his stomach fill with butterflies, made his toes curl, made him bite his lips and struggle with a smile. And the opposite, if it had been a lie or a random string of words forced out by toxin… His palms started sweating, he felt as though he could never look at Garak again, knowing that his friend had been forced to say something like that against his will. If it was wrong, and Bashir had been excited to hear it for that split second before Garak fainted, he would feel terrible for the rest of their time together. On the station together, not together together. Of course. Unless... Together.  
He put down the scanner he'd been recalibrating and put his face in his hands.  
"Doctor? Am I interrupting?" Odo's voice in the doorway made him look up.  
"Uh, no, Odo," he sighed. "What was it that you needed?"  
"Well, two things- when station power failed the last time, the force fields in security went down, and Quark made his escape. So if you see him, do let me know. He might be headed in here, he had some minor injuries."  
"You held a man without treating his injuries?" Bashir demanded.  
Odo harrumphed. "Yes, well, the other thing is that there's been some kind of energy fluctuation, and I'm having a rather... Difficult time holding my shape."  
Bashir frowned. "That isn't good," he gestured stiff-backed Odo to a biobed, running a scanner over him. "Hm. Well, I definitely see a lack of cellular cohesion, I think I can probably reverse it with a low-frequency..." He trailed off as he realized Odo wasn't listening.  
"Doctor, do you think I could ask you something?" Odo folded his hands and gazed at the ceiling.  
"Of course, what is it?" Bashir answered distractedly as he began to calibrate one of the medical tools, frowning slightly as it danced around the wavelength he wanted, refusing to settle.  
"Can you... Well.” Odo made that distinctive harrumphing sound again, clearly uncomfortable, and Bashir glanced away from his tool for a moment to smile encouragingly at his friend. “For changelings, it is impossible to... Truly move on. Everything is... Sorted in collective memory, shared among every member of our species. And so it doesn't fade quickly, you see, and even for... Individuals, we tend to..."  
"Hold on to things," Bashir's stomach dropped as he sensed where Odo was going with this line of questioning. Of course. Only on a day like today would Odo come to him for romantic advice. Major Kira learning that Odo was in love with her had gone around the station like Andorian shingles, and Bashir had felt badly for them both but never imagined finding himself in a similar situation.  
"Precisely," the Changeling cleared his throat.  
"Well, it sounds like... The person in question might also be holding on to whatever happened?"  
"No, she... Moved on, a bit, after I... Dismissed it."  
"Ah. And you wish you hadn't?"  
"Yes."  
"How about talking with her about it?"  
"I... Don't think so."  
"Well, then, how about just..." He winced as his suggestion came out of his own mouth "trying to ignore it?" He hid behind the beam he aimed at Odo's chest.  
"I... Yes, I suppose that must be the best option at the moment." The changeling sighed. "That feels much better, thank you. Perhaps my arms?"  
"I'll get there," Bashir assured him with a smile.  
"I just wish... I could talk about it."  
"I know what you mean. But sometimes things are said that... That they don't know whether it's true, and you don't want to... Revisit it." He hoped to god he wasn’t explaining Garak’s side of the equation, thinking about his own.  
"But- I believe that I want to," Odo continued to avoid eye contact, staring at the ceiling as though he were watching it to be sure it didn’t commit any crimes.  
"I know," Bashir patted his shoulder. "I... know." He didn't know whether he would bring up what had happened to him today, knowing that Garak and Odo were different people, knowing that the circumstances of their confessions had been different, but... Knowing that Odo was so uncomfortable having it thrown out in the open made him wonder if Garak would be too. If it were even true. He sighed again, and finished running the energy beam over Odo. "You're finished. Good luck," he gave the security chief's shoulder one last pat and let him up.  
Odo sped out of sickbay with the alacrity only a man who was unused to the environment and associated incapacity could manage. “Thank you, doctor,” he murmured as he disappeared.  
Bashir worked until he dropped that night, sent home by the first of his nurses to arrive in the morning, and his head nurse informed him that he’d been given a mandatory day off. “Go home and sleep,” She said with a stare as firm as if he’d been any other patient. For once, he felt very much inclined to obey.  
His heart wanted him to stay up, to go immediately to Garak’s quarters and demand answers, beg for the truth to be what he wanted to hear- but his exhausted body teamed up with his logical mind to convince him to head for his quarters and his bed.  
Besides, he could comm Garak and reschedule the lunch that had been so strangely interrupted. He smiled at the thought even though it worried him as well, trepidation and anticipation causing far too many -tions and causing the threat of heart palpitations. Bashir shook his head faintly at himself as he stripped, leaving his clothes in a trail across his floor and falling into bed.  
When he awoke, he looked at the chronometer, finding it to be far too late in the day for lunch, and made up his mind to ask Garak to dinner. Rather forward, perhaps, but better to assuage his curiosity than force himself to wait, draw out the uncertainty.  
“Hello, doctor,” Garak’s voice answered the comm with the verbal equivalent of a cheerful smile, and Bashir smiled back.  
“Hello, Garak. I was wondering if you’d care to reschedule our lunch yesterday for dinner tonight? We still have several literary points of interest to visit.”  
“Of course! What time and where, doctor?”  
Bashir considered. “Perhaps one of the restaurants on the promenade? Not Quark’s…”  
“Perhaps I ought to meet you outside my shop when I close up for the day, and we can decide from there,”  
“Capital idea.” Bashir nodded even though Garak couldn’t see. “See you then!”  
After forcing down breakfast that was really too little too late to be called any kind of meal, Bashir tried to think about what to do without thinking about the situation itself. His leg bounced unstoppably, vibrating the table.  
Suddenly, without thinking about it, he stood and addressed the computer. “Computer, location of Tora Ziyal,”  
“Tora Ziyal is in her quarters.”  
“Excellent,” Bashir tapped his commbadge. “Bashir to Ziyal.”  
“Hello, doctor,” Ziyal’s voice greeted him after a moment.  
“How are you feeling?” Julian made himself start with sociability rather than jumping to his question.  
“Oh, much better, doctor, thank you. Though,” She laughed, “I admit, it was rather embarrassing to be dealing with a truth serum on my own!”  
Bashir’s mind stopped working, but his mouth kept going. “A truth serum? Is that what it was?”  
“Yes,” Ziyal sounded amused and a little embarrassed. “And you’d never believe some of the things I said. I imagine I have a lot of apologizing to do today,”  
“I imagine people are rather more forgiving than you’re imagining them to be,” Bashir said, mouth still on autopilot.  
“I certainly hope so, especially Major Kira. I rather gave her an earful about her attitude toward my father,” the girl sounded rueful, and Bashir felt a pang of honest sympathy.  
“Don’t worry, Ziyal- I can explain to the Major about the truth serum, if you’d like?”  
“It’s alright doctor, I think she knows. I just need to get over my embarrassment. Actually, I’m meant to meet her in a few minutes; thank you for calling to check on me, but I had better get going.”  
“Of course,” Bashir said. “I wish you luck.”  
“Thank you,” She chuckled and cut the line. He stood stock still for a moment before he began pacing like a whirlwind, touching one wall of his quarters and spinning back, going from smiling giddily at the thought of a _truth serum _making Garak say he loved him to wringing his hands at such an intimate sentiment being forced out of his highly private and extremely evasive friend.__  
He spent the afternoon in a frenzy, forcing himself to sit down several times, drink tea, perform small tasks to completion rather than haring off in the middle of them. Suddenly, he remembered to comm Miles. “Chief!”  
“What is it, Julian?” Miles sounded tired, and Bashir felt a little less bad about needing to reschedule.  
“Well, I was wondering if you’d be alright with rescheduling our appointment with the Luftwaffe,”  
“Yeah, sure, that’d be-” O’Brien interrupted himself to yawn. “Just fine. Comm me tomorrow and we’ll figure it out. I think I’ll head to bed.”  
“Great, talk to you tomorrow, chief.”  
“Good night, Julian.”  
Ending the communication, Julian looked around at his spotless quarters, checked the chronometer, and wondered what on earth to do with himself for half an hour.  
In the end, he paced, and tried not to think. He knew he’d bollocks everything up if he overthought it, and he knew he’d overthink it if he thought at all. He did equations in his head, tried to think of things that needed doing in sickbay, potential research papers, anything but Garak.  
Finally, it was time for him to go, and he practically leapt from the room, deliberately slowing his stride toward Garak’s shop.  
“Hello, Garak,” he grinned when he came into Cardassian earshot, waving slightly.  
The tailor inclined his head. “Doctor.”  
“How are you feeling today? Nurse Jabara tells me you made a full recovery.”  
“Well, who am I to argue with the good nurse?”  
Julian cursed himself for having brought the subject up so immediately and deflected himself by saying, “I heard the rest of the station had it pretty bad too, O’Brien’s been up since god knows when trying to get all the systems in line,”  
“Is that so? Of course, I do recall the lapses in gravity on the promenade.”  
They chatted amicably about the station’s difficulties until they’d found their way into a new restaurant Garak had heard good things about from a customer earlier in the day, and the conversation shifted easily into literature as they settled in, ordering and discussing cultural differences in the use of noodles- until the meal was nearly over and Bashir felt the glowing sensation in his chest always provided by Garak’s presence give way to the anxiety of earlier in the day, and he cleared his throat, setting down his cutlery.  
"Garak, do you... Remember what you said yesterday? When the... When the air duct malfunctioned."  
"Unfortunately, I said many things," Garak smiled obliquely, clearly dodging the question.  
"Yes, of course..." Bashir couldn't help his disappointed tone, looking down into his food.  
"Perhaps if you were more specific in what you wanted to discuss..." Garak seemed to be doing the verbal equivalent of reaching across the table to lift his chin up, and Bashir made the effort to make eye contact.  
"I... It's..."  
"Doctor?"  
"Julian."  
"Of course," Garak was still waiting, his expression nearly unreadable, something in his eyes egging Bashir on.  
"At lunch yesterday, you said... You loved me."  
"Ah, yes. I did." Neither of them broke eye contact.  
"And..."  
Garak kept watching him, and Bashir felt color rise to his cheeks. “Did you mean it?” He finally asked in a low tone, leaning toward his friend.  
Garak leaned in to match his posture. “What do you think?”  
“I think… damn it, Garak, I _hope _you did, because so do I.”  
The Cardassian blinked twice, slowly, using both his regular eyelids and his nictitating membranes. “Well, Julian, I suppose you’re in luck.”__


End file.
